Same Old Smith
by Mrs. Data
Summary: Smith and Donna have settled down together. We get a glimpse into their lives.  This takes place six months after the events of the movie.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is the very first Shoot 'Em Up fanfic, ever. There's no action in it because I didn't see any when the burst of inspiration hit me. It's an attempt at humor. It's Smith so of course there's swearing, hence the T rating.

**Disclaimer: **Michael Davis and the New Line Cinema studio suits, please don't sue me..I'm broke.. I'm simply borrowing these characters.

* * *

The enticing aroma of omelettes, toast and coffee awoke Smith luring him out of the bedroom. His slightly callous hands rubbed his eyes before he let his right fingers drag against the corridor's smooth wall as he headed towards the kitchen. A slight grin pulled at his lips at the sound of Donna speaking Italian in her gentle voice to Oliver as gunfire came from the television. Six months earlier, he never imagined waking up in a home full of love and life; he was glad those days were behind him.

When they had first met in the brothel, he knew there was something about her that intrigued him; he couldn't figure it out until he saw her put Oliver to sleep for the very first time. The sight of her soothing him with her touch and words looked right and brought a sense of serenity to him. It was another side of her femininity that he had never seen. However, it pained him to see a reminder of the life that he once had but lost. So, he shot a complaint at her. Despite that, he knew they were each other's second chance at a normal life. Since that night, she proved to be a doting and protective mother, passionate lover and loyal partner.

His muscular form leaned against the kitchen's entrance allowing him to take in the view of her and Oliver performing their morning routine. Wearing only a robe and not a spot of makeup, she was the breathtaking combination of natural beauty and irresistible sensuality. The six-month-old happily sat in his high chair enjoying his breakfast. In quiet contentment he watched them until she noticed him.

Her pink perfect lips formed into a smile somehow managing to make her more beautiful than she already was, "Daddy's awake, Oliver," she said to their son as she fed him puréed carrots.

"Morning," he leaned down capturing her pillow lips with his own before planting a kiss on his son's forehead. The fresh scent of baby shampoo filled his nostrils invigorating every fiber of his being.

"Buongiorno amore mio," she handed him the jar of pureed carrots and stood up to place her mug and plate in the sink.

"What's playing?" he fed Oliver a spoonful then took a bite of toast.

"Equilibrium, he likes the shooting, it calms him down."

With pride in his voice he answered, "He is his father's son. Besides, Baby Einstein is such bullshit."

She shook her head and sat down next to him, "As I was giving him his bath this morning I realized..he is the only the American in this family."

"So?"

"So, he's going to pick up one of our accents. I want it to be mine," she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because it sounds better than yours. I don't want him saying, 'Tally ho pip pip.'"

Confused and a little offended he looked at her, "When the fuck have I ever said that?"

"Never..it's just the Italian accent is beautiful and sensual."

"Yeah right, like he's gonna get laid telling girls about his spicy meatballs," he flatly stated.

"Stop, Italians are fighters and lovers, you know that's true," she playfully tapped his bicep.

With a stoic stare he told her, "The scratches on my back and ass prove that."

Her lips curled into a proud smile, "You know you love it, Smith."

She was right but he wasn't going to let her know it. He pressed on with their conversation, "He's gonna take after me."

"Not when it comes to tipping, you're lousy at it," she stood up.

"My tip to you was making you cum every time we fucked," he said with blatant arrogance in his soft deep accent.

Her eyes narrowed as she folded her arms, "I faked it every time."

His head slowly shook, "No you didn't."

He was right but she wasn't going to let him know it, "I have to take a shower. I packed his bag and his bottles are ready," she pecked his mouth and then Oliver's chubby cheek, "Have a fun day with Daddy, my little boy."

When she entered the bathroom she left the door ajar and listened in.

"Honestly, I couldn't give a shit about whose accent you get. I want you to grow up to be a good man. Your mother and I are gonna do everything we can to make that happen. Then, you'll be able to meet a woman just like your mother. One who's loving, strong, bright, beautiful and she'll have a sweet back door that she'll let you tap."

Tears welled up in her eyes as her hand went over her heart trying to contain the joy growing within it.

"You know what I hate?"

An exasperated sigh came from her, she loved him but he was still the same old Smith.

"I hate how she thinks I don't know that she listens in on our morning chats," he moved his head to look down the corridor and saw her open the bathroom door.

Scowling, she yelled at him, "Tio odio bastardo!"

With a smirk on his handsome face he replied in his baritone voice, "I love it when you talk like that."

After slamming the door shut she turned on the shower to mask her chuckling.

"You know what I love? Doing that to her," he smiled when Oliver's sweet laugh filled the air followed by the sound of him chomping down on a carrot.


	2. Errands

**Errands**

After disposing of Oliver's dirty diaper, Smith brought him to his and Donna's bedroom. He spoke as he placed him in the playpen, "Daddy's gonna take a shower, you just watch the movie until I finish. We'll go to the hardware store and then the park."

With _Hard Boiled _already in the DVD player, Smith simply turned on the television and started playing the movie.

"Duchess, here!" he called out. A moment later a German Shepherd entered the room, "Keep an eye on Oliver," he told her.

Duchess sat next to the playpen and fixed her stare on the child.

"Good dog," he petted the loyal canine's head before stripping out of his clothes and stepping into the shower.

Warm streams cascaded down his perfect physique. A slow relaxed breath left his mouth when the shower's intoxicating steam wrapped itself around him. The refreshing herbal scents of shampoo, body wash and toothpaste soon filled the air. Smith didn't have many needs and desires but showers were his indulgence. It was his private oasis where he could briefly let go of the responsibilities that he had as a husband and father and just take care of himself.

Before settling down with Donna and Oliver, he had forgotten how comforting it was to have a home with hot running water, home cooked meals and a warm bed. He hated clichés but being a husband and father again really made him appreciate the simple things. While most took advantage of life's gifts, he treasured them because he knew how sudden and cruelly they could be taken away.

His eyes opened, he wiped away the steam on the shower's glass door to peer into the bedroom; Oliver and Duchess were still where he had left them. He withdrew his hand off the glass then stared at them both. Whenever he looked at his hands he never thought of the many lives he had taken using them but only of the three that he saved. Miraculously, there was no scarring from the burns and all his broken fingers had healed quite nicely. These days, there wasn't a need to but if the situation warranted; he would have no problem pulling the trigger.

A wave of cool air greeted him once he opened the door and felt the soft plush rug underneath his bare feet. In a matter of moments, he groomed himself before joining Duchess and Oliver in the bedroom to get dressed. The charcoal v-neck sweater hugged his biceps and chest while the dark denim jeans he wore perfectly fit over his black boots.

"Duchess," he picked up Oliver and the diaper bag off the bed.

She eagerly went over to him.

"Bring the carriage to the door." he instructed and watched her immediately leave the room. He checked Oliver's diaper, when he saw it was dry, they left the room.

Duchess's tail wagged the moment she saw her master open the front door, she let go of the rope attached to the carriage.

"Nice," he reached into one of the diaper bag's pockets and fed her a treat, "now bring it to the car."

The obedient hound followed his order and dragged the carriage to the SUV.

"Good girl," Smith fed her another treat before putting Oliver in his car seat and the carriage in the trunk. He looked at the sitting dog, "Well..are you gonna sit on your ass all day or get inside?" he pointed to the open car door.

She hopped into the SUV and perched herself next to Oliver in her car seat. After Smith finished securing her, she licked his face.

He wiped the side of his face and curtly told her, "What did I say to you about slobbering on me?"

Duchess hung her head and whimpered but perked up once he reached out to her.

"Quit your bitching," he petted her head. Once he got into the driver's seat he put on his sunglasses, started the car and made sure that Strapping Young Lad's CD was playing prior to pulling out of the driveway.

* * *

Two of the doors in their rental home creaked; there were a few screws loose around the house and water dripped from the bathroom sink. Smith didn't want to bother the landlord so he decided to buy the tools to fix the problems himself. It wasn't their first trip to the hardware store and the construction company Smith worked for did business with them. The owner (Clyde) and his employees had no problem letting Duchess walk around the store with her masters.

"Damn," Smith quietly groaned the instant he turned the cart into the plumbing supply and tools aisle to see a man in his early thirties holding his mobile phone underneath a young woman's skirt. The woman had no idea what was occurring behind her back while she shopped.

Smith considered ignoring the transgression but he couldn't stand by and let an innocent woman be exploited. It didn't happen often but there were times when he wished he didn't give a damn. Then he'd looked at what he had now because of his concern for the innocent. He came to terms with the truth, as long as he was the only one present, he'd give pricks their comeuppance.

Once the woman left the aisle, the pervert brought the phone to his face to watch his mini movie only to have Smith snatch it from him.

"What the fuck?" he protested, "give it back asshole!"

With a straight face, Smith removed the memory card and broke the phone in half, "Look at that, I accidently broke your phone. Aren't accidents tragic?"

"Fuck you you're-.." he gasped when Smith's fingers took a hold of his throat.

"You know what I really hate? Sick fucks like you that get off on secretly recording women in their knickers and then post it on the internet for other sick fucks to jackoff to."

He pathetically tried to remove Smith's hand but failed and listened to him.

"You have three choices: report me to Clyde and Officer Winchell over there and expose your little peepshow, leave and never come back here again or learn how to walk out of this store with a broken phone shoved up your ass. What's it gonna be?" he loosened his grip allowing him to speak.

"Two," he whimpered as he tried to breathe.

"Good, get the fuck out of here," he let him go and watched him quickly exit the aisle. He looked down at his smiling son as he broke the memory card and discarded it along with the destroyed phone into a nearby trash can.

Oliver gripped his father's hand causing him to grin.

"Always cut off pricks before they can cut someone else," he told him in a gentle voice.

Oblivious to what just happened, Clyde and Officer Winchell kindly waved to Smith, Oliver, and Duchess as they left the store.

* * *

Dressed in a black pencil skirt that accentuated her shapely backside and a crimson long sleeved blouse that demurely displayed her buxom chest, Donna strutted down the diaper aisle of the wholesale store. The ruby red kitten heels she wore clacked against the hard floor.

Once she settled down with Smith and Oliver, she knew her style of clothing had to change. However, that didn't mean she had stifle her personal flare altogether. She discovered how to dress alluringly without being overtly provocative. This was the first thing she learned since becoming a wife and mother. The second was that she was able to successfully sell something that wasn't her body. Being an independent sales representative for Beauté Eternellé Cosmetics allowed her to make a good living while working from home and raising Oliver.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a man. There was no one else in the aisle. She turned her attention to the diapers and spotted Oliver's brand and size but cursed when she saw it on a high shelf.

"Miss, do you need some help?" A teenage boy asked her as he walked over.

She read his nametag, "Yes Timmy, can you please get that box of diapers for me?"

"Sure," he grinned at her, "I just need to get the steps. I'll be right back."

"Thank you," she grinned at him and brushed her long dark tresses behind her ear. The sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention; she turned to see man a headed towards her. Although he was dressed in a suit and well groomed, Donna knew he couldn't be trusted by the filthy glint in his eyes.

"Hey sexy bitch," he reached out to grab her backside but instead had his wrist grabbed and twisted it. He groaned in pain when she slammed his body against the shelves.

"I'm no one's bitch. So don't mess with me, got it?" She hissed into his ear before turning him around and kneeing him in the crotch.

Timmy's unsure voice asked, "Um..is everything ok here?"

Donna turned and sweetly smiled at him, "Yes, this man wasn't looking and he walked into the display at the end of aisle," she looked at the wounded pervert and narrowed her dark eyes, "right?"

Cupping himself he answered in a high pitched voice, "Right. I'm ok," he held up a hand before slowly getting onto his feet. Hunched over and in agony, he left the aisle.

Timmy took his eyes off the clearly injured man and asked her, "Uh..it's that box right there?"

"Yes," she nodded and thanked him when he retrieved the box and placed it in her cart.

"It's nothing. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"There is, can you come with me to the dog food aisle? The bags are so heavy.."

"No problem," he smiled and then asked, "So..you have a baby and dog?"

Nodding she told him, "I do, they're with my husband today."

"Ooh, figures. Hot women are always taken." feeling dejected, he looked down at the cart as he pushed it for her.

Flattered by his compliment, she beamed, "Timmy, can you do something else for me?"

"Anything."

Her hand briefly touched his face, "Stay sweet. Good women love that in men."

His face turned bright red as his lips formed into a goofy smile, "Ok…"


	3. Territorial

**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who has been reading this :) And to the awesome user who subscribed. I'd love to know your thoughts so feel free to share.

**

* * *

****Territorial **

Springtime sunshine bathed the park where children ran around on the lush grass and enjoyed the various equipment on the playground. Perched at a picnic table, Smith, Oliver, and Duchess ate their lunch. The doting father let his eyes roam around the park then to Duchess before settling on his son. His little tongue licked the apple sauce on lips bringing a smile to his father's face.

Smith's mind wandered to his lone wolf days. The only reasons he would stray from his squat were to restock on supplies, donate blood, sperm, visit Donna at the brothel or work an odd job. Before that fateful night of Oliver's birth, he preferred to stay away from people. At the time, he lied to himself by believing that everyone but him was annoying, selfish, and inconsiderate. He didn't want anything to do with them. Time and Donna made me him admit the truth, fear of genuine intimacy, self hatred and endangering the lives of others were the true motives behind his voluntary isolation. The lattermost proved to be false on the night Oliver's birth mother walked past him as she tried to escape Hertz's henchman. Danger seemed destined to find him no matter how much he tried to avoid it, he had no choice but to face it.

Now, he looks back at that cold autumn night with only joy in his heart. Never has he felt regret for saving the little life currently before him. That night led him to recapture the hope and life he had lost long ago.

A loud burp came from the chubby infant after Smith took him off his shoulder. With slightly raised eyebrows he told him, "Not bad. Almost as good as your old man."

Duchess removed the Kong ball from the carriage's lower compartment and brought it over to her master.

"Aah, you want to play fetch." he eyed her. "You slobbered me on earlier."

She whined.

"What did I say about bitching?" he warned her.

With the ball still in her mouth, she rested on her stomach and looked at him with her big brown eyes.

There weren't a lot, but one of Smith's weaknesses was his fondness for females with large dark captivating eyes. With a resign sigh he told her, "Fine. Get the blanket," he commanded as he cleaned Oliver's face and threw away their trash into an adjacent garbage can.

The air was cut by her tail excitedly waving during the retrieval of the blanket from the carriage's lower compartment.

"Good," he touched her soft furry chest then laid the blanket on the grass. He took Oliver out of the carriage and placed him between his legs as they sat down on the blanket. Duchess dropped the ball in his hands and looked at him with eager eyes before sprinting after the soaring ball.

"Look at Duchess," he pointed to her then tickled Oliver's chubby baby belly. The sound of his carefree laugh delighted him. His lips brushed against the crown of his little head where dark locks lay. With a slight turn of his head, Smith gazed into his bright emerald eyes that mirrored his. Moments like this filled him with pride and love. Seeing how happy his son was priceless to him, he savored it with all his senses.

Soon after, Duchess grew tired of fetch and returned the ball to him. Smith placed the blanket, ball and Oliver back in the carriage. An ice cream truck pulled alongside the park.

"Ice cream?" he asked Oliver and accepted the grin on his face as a yes.

"Mr. Smith! How are you?" The vendor happily asked him.

"Good Fabrizio, you?"

"Wonderful! Perfetto!" he answered in his thick Italian accent. "Where is your very lovely wife?"

"She has the day off. It's just me, Oliver and Duchess today."

"I see. He's getting so big like my grandson. How is il mio ometto?"

"Pretty good," in the distance he noticed a suspicious man approaching a bench where a mother held her infant daughter. The man removed a gun from the waistline of his pants and stole the mother's purse. He mentally cursed when he searched the area and saw that the park's patrol officer was nowhere in sight.

Holding out his hands Fabrizio asked, "May I hold him?"

If it weren't for what just happened and Donna trusting Fabrizio, Smith would have politely declined. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option for him so he handed Oliver to him claiming to have forgotten his wallet in the car.

* * *

The thief's success was thwarted when Smith attacked him from behind and pushed him into an alley.

"Oh shit!" the thief cried out against the brick wall. He tried to remove a knife from his pocket only to have his wrist promptly broken. The pocket knife landed on the pavement as he wailed in agony.

"You know what I hate?" Smith said into his ear, "Thieving greedy assholes like you that rob women and their children. Quite fucking frankly, I'm also getting tired of pricks like you trying to ruin my day. So," he took a hold of the thief's gun and aimed it at his genitals, "unless you want your twig and berries in pieces on the pavement you're gonna return that purse to its owner and turn yourself in without looking back. And if you come into my park again I'm gonna make you regret that I didn't shoot your sack off. Got it?"

He cried, "Ok, ok, just don't hurt me!"

Smith watched the thief return to the bench where the park's patrol officer arrested him. He took the thief's gun with him placing it in the waistline of his jeans, concealing it with his sweater.

"Here's your Daddy," Fabrizio said as he handed Oliver back to his father.

"Thanks, we'll have our usual," he paid Fabrizio and accepted the fudge bar.

"Have a good afternoon! Ciao!" He kindly waved to them while they walked away.

"You too," he hollered back and spoke to Oliver, "we're going home. I'm fairly certain there are no bastards there."

* * *

"Hello Duchess," Donna grinned and placed the shopping bags on the kitchen table so she could pet the dog. "Where's Daddy and Oliver?"

The obedient hound led her mistress to the bedroom where Oliver slept on his father's chest.

Her lips curled into a blissful smile upon seeing her loved ones peacefully resting. Images like this made her feel blessed for what she had.

The night where she had first met Smith was a different experience for her. Unlike her other clients he was actually handsome and cared about satisfying her needs. She began to look forward to his visits because for a brief moment he made her feel like a woman with desires instead of a disposable sex object. A part of her knew how damaged they both were and so, she saw their trysts as lost souls finding solace in one another. Even during their most carnal sessions she could see his anger and pain, although she wasn't bothered by it. In fact, she didn't mind being his outlet and connection to humanity. However, she never expected to be anything more to him. Now, she felt grateful and honored to be the mother of their child and his wife.

The love that was swelling in her body and soul compelled her to quietly walk over and plant gentle kisses on their foreheads.

His eyes opened, he whispered to her, "Back already?"

"It's five," she gazed into his green eyes, "how was your day?"

"Not bad, we didn't run into too many assholes. You?"

"Just one..I hit him in the balls," she proudly told him.

Impressed, he remembered what she did to the heavy metal club owner, "He got off easy. Fabrizio says hi."

"Really, how is he?"

"Like he's always been. I also fixed the sink and the doors. Thanks for buying Duchess's food."

She shrugged, "It was on sale. Thank you for fixing everything."

"It had to be done."

She nodded, "I just came back from the mall."

His face fell, "Please tell me you didn't get him anymore of those damn miniature knock-off Italian suits?"

Her dark eyes rolled, "Just one but I also got dessert."

His brows furrowed, "We already have pie and ice cream."

With a suggestive stare she stated, "I bought it at Victoria's Secret."

His interest was piqued, "I can't wait to have a taste."

The sly smile on his handsome face was too hard to resist, she tasted his warm soft lips.

Brief disappointment passed through his heart when she withdrew from him. He could never get enough of her.

"I'll get started on dinner."

"All right..but I want dessert first," he gave her a ravenous look.

With a little chuckle she said, "You're whacked."

"I am," he dryly replied.

They shared a smirk before she reluctantly left the room.


	4. Reflection

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who has read this fic. This is the very last chapter.

**Reflection**

The pleasing scent of spices, herbs and baked ground beef welcomed Smith and Oliver the moment they left the bedroom. Standing over the oven, Donna stirred the tomato sauce and added in the meatballs. Once she noticed their presence she walked over to them with a ladle in her hand.

"There are my boys," her lips brushed against theirs. "What do you think?" she brought the sauce covered ladle to his lips.

The warm tangy sauce melted on his tongue, it was the best that he had ever tasted. He couldn't help himself, "I don't hate it."

Her hand lightly tapped his chest, "Smith be serious. It's a family recipe; my mama taught me how to make it when I was a little girl."

With a soft look he answered, "It's delicious."

Her eyebrow rose, "You're not bullshitting me?"

Placing Oliver in his high chair he replied, "Why would I start now?"

She knew he was right and felt proud that she pleased him, "You're right. Thank you," before she returned to the oven his hand slapped her backside. Her dark eyes shot him a seductive stare, he was the only man allowed to handle her in such a way. The defiant look he wore turned her on but they both knew their needs had to wait until Oliver went to bed.

"I'll set the table," he removed dishes and silverware from the drawers and cabinets.

While eating dinner Smith and Donna discussed their day and their plans for the rest of the long weekend. During a lull in the conversation she set down her glass of wine and met his eyes.

"I know you don't care about whose accent he gets but I do," she admitted to him.

"Why?" he looked at her with curiosity in his eyes.

Her head tipped to the left as spoke to her husband, "You brought him into this world. You were the first one to hold him. He drank from his mother's breast. I wasn't there for him. And I know that we didn't make him. I love him like we did but.." her eyes became welled up.

The gentle tone of her voice and emotion in her eyes concerned him, "What?"

With fearless honesty and a touch of lament in her heart she said to him, "He has green eyes…your eyes, your coloring and our dark hair. When people see him, they're going to see you and I love that, I do. But I want him to have something from me. So that he and others will know that I'm his mother." A low rueful laugh left her lips, "That sounds ridiculous.."

The candor in her words moved him; it was one of the many reasons why he loved her. From across the table his hand reached out and clasped hers, "No it's not."

Tears escaped her dark eyes, "Yes it does, it's vain."

His gripped tightened as he spoke in an empathetic tone, "It's not. That's one of the reasons why people have children. They wanna see a reflection of themselves-of their love..in their kids. It's natural to want that."

"Really?" she asked him with hope in her voice.

"Yes and it's gonna be obvious what Oliver takes after you."

"How?"

A hint of a smirk touched his mouth, "They'll see it his heart, that's for damn sure and anything else that isn't prickish."

His words touched her soul, "So..that means everything that isn't like you." she teased him.

Her quip amused him making him love her more. In deadpan fashion he replied, "Exactly but just for that I'm getting extra dessert." A sharp exhale came from him when he felt her foot graze his inner thigh near his crotch.

"We'll see Smith," she raised an eyebrow and licked sauce off her finger.

"Bad girl," he shot back while suppressing the urge to take her right then and there.

"I guess I deserved to be punished," her lips pouted.

"You will be," his thumb stroked her hand.

Oliver's loud belch interrupted them; his spaghetti sauce covered face was shining. They laughed enjoying the moment.

Donna wiped his face with his bib, "He's his father's son, down and dirty."

"That's my boy," he said with quiet pride in his voice.

* * *

After reading Oliver a few pages from _Oliver Twist,_ Smith kissed his sleeping son. He then went to his bedroom for dessert.

Underneath the bright lights their glistening bare bodies rested on the king size bed. The sound of their breathing gradually retuning to normal filled the room. Their senses slowly descended from the heavenly heights that they had just reached together. His strong hand held the small of her back as he turned on his side and faced her.

"You know what I hate?" he told her.

Donna would have been annoyed by his favorite line but she was too satisfied to care and chose to humor him, "What?"

"I hate..how we don't get to do that more often," he smiled at her.

Her face radiated with pure elation, his smile always did that to her, "I hate that too. Good night, amore mio."

"Night," he kissed her lips before getting up to turn off the lights.

Cold solitude used to only be his only companion during his bachelor days. His arm reached out to her. Every night he slept surrounded by her soft warm embrace. The feel of her reminded him that every sacrifice he made was well worth it.

Through the darkness she heard the familiar crunch of him biting a carrot. Their fingers intertwined after his arm snaked around her waist, his face was nestled in her neck. He was still the same old Smith and she wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
